The Cooking Critic

The pizza craving is a difficult urge to resist, as I have documented before. On one particular day, visions of pizza danced in my head and then visions of me eating a few slices at Hard Times Pizza soon followed. This didn’t seem like such an unreasonable thought but was a little excessive when my refrigerator was chock-full of goods from a recent grocery store run. So I figured I’d sensibly use what I had on hand while simultaneously fulfilling my pizza craving as best I could. The result? Turkish Pizza Turnover.

Turkish Pizza Turnover is very cleverly named since it really resembles a quesadilla more than a pizza. As much as I like quesadillas, pizza has some sort of primal pull on me—sometimes nothing in the world will do except a big cheesy slice of pizza. Turkish Pizza Turnovers aren’t that cheesy and don’t have an ounce of red sauce. Some might even describe them as healthy. Actually, I don’t know if some would, but I would—my standards for healthy are pretty loose. Still, when the primary ingredient for a dish is a vegetable—in this case spinach—I think I have something resembling a solid argument.

Adjustments: I’m sure the homemade dough described in this recipe is delicious, and it doesn’t look hard. But I was on a quest to use up my lavash, and since the resulting homemade bread in the picture next to the Turkish Pizza Turnover recipe looked identical to the lavash in my refrigerator, there’s was really no question about what to do. So lavash was used and mascarpone cheese omitted since I didn’t have any. In retrospect, I wish I would have thrown in a little mozzarella or Monterey Jack since cheesy pizza was what I was craving, but oh well.

Assessment: This was a nice change from my typical lunch fare. It reminded me of a flat spanakopita. But unlike the other spanakopita taste-alike I made recently–Greek Chicken Strudel, which was so time-consuming that in the end it just wasn’t worth the effort–this dish was an easy thrown-together meal, and so, gets my endorsement. But it’s something more for yourself than a crowd. Stick to the puffy store-bought spanakopita for the latter.

Either Shahan Sannossian or a character from one of his stories once said, good lavash is hard to come by. Actually, I’m sure he or his character put it far more eloquently than that, but the general idea of it stuck with me because I had never really considered lavash before. In case you have gone through your life lavash-less, it’s a thin, soft, flat bread used in wraps and often coming in large squares—it’s also called Armenian Cracker Bread and is not unlike the flour tortilla in many ways. According to Shahan or his character, lavash likes to become stale almost immediately (perhaps because it’s related in name to the cracker?) Anyhow, I tucked that bit of information about staleness away, and when I purchased some lavash recently for a picnic outing, determined the only solution to prevent stale lavash was to use the lavash in as many meals as possible pronto. A sensible solution indeed.

BLT Wraps with Tahini Sauce is one way to consume lavash, a recipe I’ve tried before. Instead of mayonnaise, perhaps my least favorite condiment and a traditional BLT accompaniment, this sandwich makes use of a slightly spicy tahini concoction (tahini is just ground sesame seeds, btw.) So you get your summery BLT but with some exotic flavor interplay.

Adjustments: I just shook in some red pepper flakes rather than measuring it out with a teaspoon since I prefer spiciness to remain a hint rather than a full-on flavor. I fried up prosciutto instead of bacon since that’s what I had on hand.

Assessment: Good, but something to do with leftover lavash rather than something to purchase lavash for.

Nothing says summer like watching old films in a cemetery; at least that’s how the saying goes here in Los Angeles. For the uninitiated, this could seem bizarre or morbid, but really it’s just good old-fashioned fun among tombstones. Nothing creepy about it.

Hollywood Forever Cemetery, a beautiful old cemetery where many a Hollywood star is interred, has officially opened its doors for Saturday night outdoor movie screenings hosted by Cinespia, and my friends and I were some of the many people charging the gates at 6:30 in an attempt to get a prime spot. Here, people picnic, watch old movies and sit in an open grassy area a safe distance from any tombstones. This particular Saturday, we watched The Maltese Falcon, drank fine Claret and cheap Cabernet Sauvignon, ate cheese, strawberries, grapes, snow peas, salami, Trader Joe’s Mango Fandango fruit salad, Lavash Wraps with Hummus and Honey-Roasted Turkey, Cranberry White Chocolate Cookies, and Broiled Coconut Cupcakes (but not mine—I’m on a cupcake hiatus.)

While I love potluck picnics and their snacking tapas quality, sometimes all the little bits of food don’t feel like they add up to a substantial whole. I thought I’d try to avoid that this time with the lavash wraps, which the group gobbled up. The wraps were no trouble at all to make and very portable—a perfect picnic food.

White Chocolate Cranberry Cookies from From the Pantry were a tasty twist on the traditional Chocolate Chip Cookie. While I would certainly make these again if my kitchen housed white chocolate chips (a rarity) and dried cranberries (a staple), I have to say I’m a bit of a purist when it comes to the chocolate chip cookie—I prefer my chocolate leaning toward the dark and bitter side as opposed to light and sweet. Brandon can attest to this since when I visit his place, the Hershey’s Dark Chocolate Miniatures disappear, and I leave in my wake a mass of untouched Mr. Goodbars, Krackels and Hershey’s Milk Chocolate.

Here is my photograph of White Chocolate Cranberry Cookies. I like to call this image “Late Afternoon Light on Freshly Baked Cookies.” I’d like to call it that, and so I shall.

In The Lord of the Rings fashion, I’m going to begin the second part of “Who Will Be the Grilled Cheese Champion?” without a recap on the previous part. Instead please read part one of “Who Will Be the Grilled Cheese Champion?” by clicking here.

Back to “Who Will Be the Grilled Cheese Champion?” part two…

Next up was the third heat for sweet sandwiches. Shayna, Shahan and I took care of this leg, creating the most efficient grilled cheese assembly line ever known to man. It went like this: Shayna grilled the quesadillas, flipped them off the grill onto a plate, then put a new quesadilla in the pan, while I cut the quesadilla into wedges with scissors, then drizzled raspberry sauce on them. Next Shahan shook the powdered sugar, I added a dollop of whipped cream on each, Shahan raised the flag to alert a runner and Shayna was already taking the next quesadilla out of the pan. If there’s a grilled cheese zone, we were in it. Sadly, our flag and half of Shahan’s face got cut out of the picture, but here’s what we basically looked like in all our grilled-cheese making glory:

Not that we didn’t have some minor glitches. The hosts of this event informed us butter would be available for all. I had a sneaking suspicion that when they said “butter,” they meant “margarine” and had intended to bring my own butter since margarine will never ever do. Happily, my sneaking suspicion was correct. Sadly, I forgot to bring the butter. Still, when an enormous slab of real butter magically appeared in front of me, I determined this must be the secret communal butter stash and picked it up. As it turns out, this was not secret communal butter because it was whisked immediately out of my hands by another contestant and placed out of my reach. Luckily, a man to our right, making grilled cheese sandwiches in cube form, gave us his whole container of creamed butter when he was done making his sandwiches. Butter at last!

Another minor glitch–we nearly ran out of raspberry sauce and got stingy with it, as you can see here:

As for sweet sandwiches, one was made with slices of bread pudding and had a vanilla sauce and was nice and mild, but the sandwich had little to do with cheese. There was also an unusually sharp sandwich with dark bread, feta, cooked pears and a very tangy caramel sauce.

Finally the votes were tabulated. Team We Aim To Cheese waited anxiously for our name to be called . . . but we weren’t named winners of the standard grilled cheese competition, which made sense since we didn’t enter that field. Then came the alternative sandwich champions . . . and sadly, no glory for We Aim to Cheese. The sweet category finally arrived. The emcees called the third place winner . . . not us! Then right before they announced the second place winner, the emcee said, “This is my favorite sandwich name,” and we knew it was Requiem for a Cream…Cheese Quesadilla. Indeed, it was. I went on stage to receive the second-place trophy, and Brandon doused me in champagne to celebrate the victory. I was very cold but pleased the rest of the night.

Then the emcees called out the first place winners, and two girls in bikinis ran up to the stage, squealing with excitement. They looked something like this:

Picture that times two.

For some reason, we thought we could win looking like this:

The lesson we learned: team aprons are certainly not bikinis. Also, bring digital cameras, so we don’t have to worry about crooked, scanned images later.

I’m not even sure what sandwich the girls in bikinis made since ingredients were not announced during the award presentation, but I suspect no one knew what sort of sandwich they made. What happened to the good old days, when grilled cheese competitions were about the grilled cheese and not about the girls in bikinis?

At least we know what we have to do next year.

Recipes: Here’s a variation of Rob’s Breaded Pirate Roberts/Mozzarella in Carrozza , and here’s the family recipe for Cream Cheese Bars that inspired my quesadillas. For the quesadilla variation, I cooked the cream cheese mixture described in the Cream Cheese Bars link like a soufflé in a greased 8 x 8 pan for 25-30 minutes, then stuffed the cream cheese mixture into folded tortillas (roughly 1/3 cup per tortilla), cooked the tortilla on both sides on the stovetop (in butter), removed from heat, drizzled this super-simple Raspberry Sauce on it, sifted some powdered sugar over top, then finished with a squeeze of whipped cream. Here’s what Shahan has to say about Requiem for a Cream…Cheese Quesadillas: “It is good.” Now if that doesn’t convince you to try these, I don’t know what will.

Photos by Jim Sutherland, Leslie Limerick and Ezra Freedman.

>>Buy Real Fast Food by Nigel Slater or Open House: A Culinary Tour by The Junior League of Murfreesboro.

Canned tuna smells funny. Let’s just get that out of the way up front. I always feel a little guilty when I eat a tuna sandwich in front of other people because then I have to subject them to the smell, and that seems unfair.

So like many foods in my life, I started off with anti-tuna feelings, and now I see I was wrong. Very very wrong. This version of the Tuna Sandwich is made with olive oil, white wine vinegar and garlic instead of mayo, which makes me feel healthy and smart when I eat it. And I love feeling healthy and smart.

Honestly, you should buy Nigel Slater’s Real Fast Food for his commentary as much as the recipes. Here’s his description of this sandwich: “even in the depths of winter it can remind me of summer.” I hear you, Nigel. And he says the ingredients are based “on the classic Pan Bagna.” I’m sure we all know what that means.

Adjustments: I didn’t have the red bell pepper, anchovy fillets or black olives that the recipe calls for, and this sandwich was still good.

Assessments: I’ve eaten three of these sandwiches in a week’s time. It’s madness! For some reason, it’s become the only food that makes sense to eat after running. And I think I ate a bug today while running. The tuna sandwich tasted better.

There are too few good homemade lunches out there. Luckily, Hot Chicken with Cream and Garlic Sandwich is changing the landscape of lunches round the world. I love Real Fast Food for including something so basic—chicken, garlic, butter, cream and fresh herbs heated and served on a baguette. I also like that the recipe contains the word “glop” as an instruction: “[use] enough cream to make a thick ‘glop.’”

Adjustments: I used the roasted chicken still in my fridge rather than cooking up a new one and threw in the cilantro and parsley I had on hand.

Assessment: Like it!